


Zippers

by PaltryPensworth (AnnGry)



Series: Playmates [1]
Category: LazyTown
Genre: M/M, Undressing, public playfulness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-02-14 03:45:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12999156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnGry/pseuds/PaltryPensworth
Summary: LazyTown's hero has a zipper in the back of his costume. It only takes one tug...





	Zippers

It started when Ziggy accidentally spilled his soda on Sportacus. The man acted quickly and shrugged out of his jacket before it could soak into his shirt. Ziggy was so sorry, but apologies weren’t necessary. Sportacus bent down to pick up the can of pop for the kid.

He hadn’t even realized that Robbie Rotten was behind him. As he stood up he heard the other man’s familiar growl touched with curiosity.

“What’s this, Sportafly, are you coming undone?”

Then there came the high pitched _zing_ , and the zipper on the back of Sportacus’ shirt starting at his nape raced down his spine. Fresh air rushed in at the opening and attacked his skin. Sportacus jumped a foot in the air and sprang clear of Robbie.

“Hey!” Sportacus yelped and groped at the back of his shirt, hastily zipping himself back up. His face went hot and red as a pepper. Ziggy gawked at the spectacle.

“What happened?” The little boy looked between the men but did not know what had made Sportacus startle. That was between Sportacus and Robbie.

Why did Robbie do it? The gangly man gave no explanation. He looked just as surprised as Sportacus did when they stared at each other. Then Robbie grinned, the sharp points of his teeth peeking out in a sneer. There was no knowing why he started, but easy enough to understand why he continued. The hero’s humiliation gave him all the motivation he needed.

 

* * *

 

It happened again that Sportacus took the brunt of a water balloon in the back while playing with the kids on a hot day. He peeled off his jacket and threw it over the nearest bench to dry. With the game at an end he went around the park doubled over to pick up scraps of broken balloons.

Most likely Robbie had been watching the children and elf playing the whole time, waiting for his moment to come. And so it did that by the time Sportacus went back to the bench to get his jacket he was alone, or so he thought.

 _Zing_ , the zipper’s teeth sang as they separated. The hairs on the back of Sportacus’ neck stood on end and the flesh between his shoulder blades rippled with goosebumps as more of his skin was exposed. Sportacus dove over the back of the bench, flipping over into the bushes behind them with a crash. Robbie’s deep laugh followed him.

Sportacus stared up at Robbie. His face burned and it echoed the stinging of the prickers in the bush that scratched his back. He fumbled blindly with one arm to find the zipper halfway down his shirt, lower than the last time. It was hard to handle with his heartbeat hammering all the way down his fingers. All the while Robbie looked down on him, his dark eyes narrowed, mouth twisted smugly in a self assured smirk. He picked up Sportacus’ jacket and tossed it over the bench.

“Maybe you should wear a jumpsuit, you big blue jumping bean.”

 

* * *

 

How was it then, that Sportacus couldn’t keep his coat on? He was splashed with paint while helping the mayor to paint Bessie’s house. He caught a tomato in the ribs while interrupting a food fight among the kids as he reminded them that food was for growing and not for throwing. The baseball diamond was still muddy after a recent rainstorm and left its mark all along his side when he made a dive for home plate.

So off came Sportacus’ jacket more often than not. And more often than not, maybe even not “not” at all, Robbie was waiting in the wings and ready to pounce. Sportacus couldn’t predict the lanky man’s movements. One moment Sportacus was alone, waiting for his coat to dry on the clothes line. The next he might see the shadow of his sneaky assailant, and even then it was too late. Robbie’s long and twitchy fingers were already on him and giving his zipper a hard yank.

It set his spine off like a live wire, the sound of it, that _zing_ , electrifying his ears and giving his heart a powerful jolt that thrilled through every nerve. How Robbie managed it, to grab onto this one tiny thing, this insignificant pull tab, and reduce the hero to hysterics, defied all reasoning. It wasn’t that Sportacus felt threatened by what Robbie was doing for the mischievous man never went any further once that first sight of skin was uncovered. He did not scratch or jab with those finicky fingers of his. Robbie seemed satisfied in only going so far with his trespassing. But why?

And why did Sportacus feel his pulse quicken even when he was alone, absolutely safe in the solitude of his airship, when he took off his jacket then? Why did his fingers still tremble when he meant to unzip his shirt under his own power?

Why did his mouth go dry and his muscles tense whenever he caught sight of Robbie slinking around town, even when they were nowhere near each other, when he had his jacket on and no risk of it coming off anytime soon? What was this feeling, this nervy energy that kept him unsettled? He wasn’t afraid of Robbie. The persistent pranks did not even anger him. Sportacus could not say that he minded it at all if he was being honest. He could make it stop if he really wanted to, but the truth was he didn’t.

He knew what this feeling was. His heightened sense of anticipation for when Robbie would strike next could not be anything other than… excitement.

This was some kind of game that only Robbie played, and only with Sportacus, one on the other. It was weird and silly, yet at the same time it was sensual in their shared secrecy. And every time it happened the zipper on Sportacus’ shirt came farther and farther down, skidding over his nape and sliding between his shoulders, spilling down into the small of his back. It couldn’t go on much longer like this.

 

* * *

 

Sportacus waved good bye to the kids as he left them playing on the mayor’s front lawn. The kids continued to shriek and laugh as they took turns spiraling down the slip and slide. Sportacus had soared straight off the flimsy plastic sheet and had an impressive grass stain down the back of his jacket like a racing stripe. He carried it over one arm so that the sun could warm his back as he walked.

He knew that Robbie was nearby. The lean and lurking shadow hounded him all the way through town, his progress marked by a rustling bush here, and wobbling trash can there. As long as Sportacus was moving the man couldn’t make a move on him. He kept his eyes forward and his pace easy until he came to the next brick wall.

Here Sportacus stopped on the pretext of wanting to take a closer look at one of the mayor’s flyers posted on the wall. It was an outdated election poster from the mayor’s last campaign. By the looks of it Trixie had made some alterations to the mayor’s face in the middle of the image, giving him a bushy mustache.

The skin all up his arms prickled and his chest tightened so that his breath came out thin and fast. That familiar feeling of anticipation made his insides squirm. His neck itched under the collar of his shirt right where the zipper rested. A looming shadow edged forward along the wall across his own and the slightest scuff of a shoe issued behind him.

Sportacus threw one arm back over his head. He seized something firm that strained against him. Turning on the spot Sportacus heard an uncomfortable oath as he twisted Robbie’s wrist in order to look him in the eye.

Robbie stared wide eyed back at him. The man’s face couldn’t settle on an expression of outright surprise or cheeky admission of guilt, all the fine muscles fidgeting and twitching around his nose and mouth, his eyebrows jumping. With a hard pull Sportacus swung Robbie round and into the wall. Robbie let out a sharp grunt as his back hit the hard bricks and all color drained from his face.

“N-now, now, Sportacus,” Robbie stammered, unable to affect a level tone while his trembling betrayed him. His knees knocked together and he scrabbled at the wall with his other hand as though to scuttle away from the athletic elf. But Sportacus still had his vice grip on Robbie and he held him there, arresting him with his unblinking stare.

Sportacus raised his free hand up where Robbie could see it. The taller man cowered under his gaze and flinched away, turning his face with a grimace as Sportacus reached for him.

Hidden under the hem of Robbie’s short vest there was a zipper. The villain’s heart beat a heady percussion against Sportacus’ knuckles as he found the pull tab tucked away in the dark creases of his clothes. He dragged it down slowly, one centimeter at a time. The teeth didn’t make a zinging noise. As it crawled down Robbie’s trembling chest this zipper made a husky _purr._

Here was sensitive skin, stark white against the purple stripes of Robbie’s suit. Sportacus released the zipper and let his hand fall. With the other he still held Robbie by the wrist. The man’s pulse ticked against his palm like a watch running double time. Where the blood had gone out of his face before now the color rushed back in and Robbie was beet red. His mouth moved wordlessly.

Sportacus pinched his fingers together at one corner of his smiling lips. Holding the invisible pull tab he drew them across and could hear that throaty purr even still in his head. Robbie could not stop shaking but the suggestion of a smirk flirted on his mouth.

After all Sportacus had not pulled Robbie’s zipper down that far.

How much longer could it go on?

 


End file.
